


True Love Café

by SparkyLulu



Series: Songs About a Wolf [4]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Edging, F/M, Feet worshipping, Quality time with Papa III, Reader is bratty, Was intended to be soft but it spiced up along the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 22:55:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20713904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkyLulu/pseuds/SparkyLulu
Summary: "You have such a beautiful faceI've been dreaming about it between my legs..."- "True Love Café" by Nicole Dollanghanger





	True Love Café

**Author's Note:**

> Fourth song - _"True Love Café"_ by **Nicole Dollanghanger.**

The third Papa Emeritus hummed happily to himself as he made his way back to his private chambers. It was Saturday afternoon and, even though his Papal work knew no weekends, he had made it clear that he would  _ at least _ have the Sabbath for himself - well, not only for him but for  _ her _ as well.

One may have thought that such a Sabbath would entitle complex rituals and praising of the Dark Lord below, but the reality was way more mundane than the religious affairs of the Church. Rituals were involved, yes - and so were the sinful acts one would immediately associate with a devil-worshipping cult. Yet, what he cherished the most - above all else - were those warm, soft moments he would share with his princess. Right there and then, he would be able to forget that he was the head of the Church and exchange the admiration and recognition of hundreds (or even thousands) for the look of bliss in her single pair of eyes whenever she would see him disrobing of the papal regalia (literally or figuratively) in favor of the man she had been allowed to get to know and love. 

A loving smile made its home on his face when he reached the wooden doors adorned with metal geometrical patterns that guarded his private Eden. He removed his miter, taking it with his left gloved hand, while his other turned down the handle and opened the door.

He was unexpectedly well greeted by a sight that made him use all his willpower to stop his jaw from dropping. His miter didn’t share the same fate, though, as it inevitably fell to the wooden floor in a rustle of fabric. However, the third Emeritus paid it no mind at all for his gaze had been captured by a  _ much more _ appealing (and certainly sensual) living room scene.

His favorite chaise lounge (black velvet, art deco style; the one that would usually sit by the Eastern room windows were he'd usually spend his lazy Sunday mornings) had been moved around so it was currently sitting on display in the middle of the spacious living room. A royal purple that he recognized from his bedroom draped over it like a mantle or frame to a much more exquisite artwork. His princess (the object of his current fixation) was laying on her tum over it. Her legs were bent up in the air, lazily swaying around and showing off the fuzzy socks that hugged her feet. Her elbows propped her bodice up as she blew off the fresh glittery polish that now covered her mid-length fingernails in a colorful arrange. The soft golden glow of the afternoon sun bathed her completing the scene. He got the impression of sneaking up on an unsuspecting nymph, one wearing a dress shirt - a pink one of his that would loosely frame her and leave none of her otherwise naked curves to the imagination - that quickened his pulse and threatened to make his heart stop.

He absent-mindedly licked his lips. They suddenly felt too dry. The clocks at the church ticked but time had no meaning to him.

“Papa? Is everything okay?” he heard her voice asking softly, successfully waking him from his trance. His eyes trailed a path from the soft curves of her ass up to her back and shoulders, stopping for a second on two on the plump lips that had breathed the words and now curved into a sly smile.

He sighed, letting out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Of course, the little kitten had prepared the scene and was now feigning innocence.

Oh, how he  _ loved  _ it when she played like that.

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he walked towards the nearby sofa, taking off the papal chasuble before lazily throwing it over the luxurious piece of furniture. He made a quick detour towards the bedroom where he disposed of the formal shoes, black and gold leather gloves and the black cassock he wore beneath the regal robes, changing into a much more casual attire consisting of a pair of sweatpants and a loose button-up that he purposely left open. He walked back into the living room to find out his sweetheart had turned around to watch him - effectively exposing most of her cleavage.

He inhaled deeply and his lips parted as he faked arranging his shirt just to pretend that the sight hadn’t affected him in the least. Even if both of them knew of the other's lives and pretended, both of them would play coy for they enjoyed the thrill of the chase as much as the other.

“I thought it was my turn to paint your nails,  _ Cara" _ was all he said as nonchalantly as he possibly could. After all, there was no lie - they had arranged the activity some days prior. Still, they both knew none of them minded, for the promise of other pleasantries could quiet any kind of disappointment at the sudden change of plans.

She giggled - that bubbly burst of happiness that proved him that angels could stray away from their heavenly shepherd and strive for the bliss of the earthly life… Strive for  _ him. _ This idea made him pause, arms suspended in mid-action as he paid no more attention to his buttons.

“Well, you were taking  _ too long, _ Papa. I thought I’d much rather get started...” She watched him as she spoke and he knew she would catch up any subtle indication of the effect her words had on him. "Besides… I still have my toenails left." 

She moved to face him more properly. Her arms covered her chest as she lay on her side and the shirt draped over her like petals covering a flower’s inner core. She wiggled her feet, emphasizing her words.

He finally gave in, smiling down at her. He had given a poor fight but he didn't care. Apparently, neither did she.

Kneeling in front of her, he gently kissed her forehead - which earned him more bubbly giggles. "Someone's having fun, huh…" he said, kissing the tip of her nose. 

"Maybe…" her futile attempt to keep a serious facade fell before it could build up and she laughed as the head of the Satanic church poked her nose.

"Good girls don't lie…" he replied. "And," he huskily whispered, "they don't tease their Papa."

Her face flushed at his words and all replies were silenced by a kiss that served as a reminder of who would always be in charge. Her hands clumsily moved to hang around the back of his neck, trying to pull him closer while avoiding messing up her freshly painted nails; whereas his own took the chance to hold her closer to him. A long deep moan escaped her throat when he deepened the kiss, tongue claiming the ownership of her mouth.

He pulled away and she gasped for air, her head dizzy after such a passionate exchange. It was Papa's turn smile smugly, then.

His right hand traced down her neck making a path down her left arm and side. Fingertips like feathers brushed a sensitive nipple that his beneath a layer of fabric. It hardened upon the soft touch, the clothes a layer too thin to prevent the erotic sensation. His hand continued its way down her hips, palm caressing the flesh of her legs leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. He had to move a bit to reach the hem of her fluffy socks, taking them off one by one like a newborn butterfly would shed its cocoon.

He grabbed her feet and gave each of them a gentle kiss, which visibly melted her against the blanket. He continued kissing them, his hands caressing and massaging them. A flick of his tongue between her toes made her flinch and whimper, the contact tickling her sensitive skin. He sucked on a foot thumb, the wetness and heat of his mouth making her squirm against the chaise. It didn't pass long before he gave the other one the same treatment eliciting more sweet sounds.

He gently moved her so he could have access to the insides of her legs and thighs as yet another change of plans was made. He showered her skin in wet butterfly kisses that made her stomach flutter and heat pool inside of her. She couldn’t help it as she parted her legs to welcome his attention further up and closer to her sex. He wasted no time as his body lounged over hers and the chaise, fingers digging hungrily into the flesh and mouth tasting inch after inch of skin. Her legs found their home over his shoulders and her heels egged him to close the distance between them. 

She closed her eyes and shivered, anticipating the kiss she wanted the most… yet, it never came. 

She looked back at him just in time to see a smug smile plastered on his face and it was suddenly too cold when the warmth of his body left hers as he straightened himself. A grumpy noise escaped her and he chuckled.

“I believe it’s time to make your feet even prettier, Cara… Tell me, which color would you like them?” It was his turn to be in control of the game.

She pouted. “Any will do.”

He was sure she had to work hard not to cross her arms - to say he was pleased with himself was an understatement.

He pressed a fingertip to her pout. “Patience is a virtue, kitten… Let Papa pamper you and he will reward you in any way you like. How does that sound?”

She considered the offer. “Like a double prize?” She mumbled against his fingertip.

“You could say that… But only good girls get a double reward from Papa.”

Curling her lips into an impish smile, she parted them to allow her tongue the freedom to playfully lick on the older man’s fingertip. She was quick to suck on it before he could pull away - earning a third reward for herself.  _ “Jackpot.” _

The Third’s low grunt resonated in the room as the nail care routine was postponed yet again.


End file.
